Everything You've Always Wanted
by cloudychelc
Summary: Clara Oswald, a talented songwriter, was everything the Doctor, an aging rockstar, ever wanted, but it's not going to be as easy to have her. Rockstar AU.
1. Chapter 1

John had met her a couple of times and she probably didn't remember, which is something he wouldn't be surprised about. He wasn't really much of a person. Yes, he was a person, but he wasn't a _known_ person in the business. He was an individual with little to nothing to his name, but a guitar, a pencil, paper, a dingy flat, a few songs, and the clothes on his back. To the average bloke, he looked like one of those people who _tried _to get into the music industry but he hasn't gotten there yet or probably will die trying. Sometimes he wonders if it was worth it, to abandon everything in Scotland and come to London on a whim, on a feeling. But, judging by the fact that he was invited to this film party that was the aftermath of a screening personally, he knew he was getting _somewhere_, along with the waves of individuals that had praised his supposed work. Perhaps they were just going through the motions or were being kind to the little known musician, he wasn't sure. It was nice, but at the same time, it was queasy. Didn't feel right, didn't feel like it was really heartfelt, but all of his thoughts at that point were thrown out the window when he was introduced to _her. _The same person John had seen a handful of times yet had said nothing to, unless one would count singing as a form of communication of first meets. He was going to meet her. Properly, not just a brief glance into the mingling crowd and seeing her face.

"Doctor, I want you to meet somebody. This is my friend, Clara." John hadn't even noticed that Amy, one of the women he had previously met a little while ago, was standing in front of him. Was he really that dazed off? His eyes darted from Donna to the person she had introduced as Clara. Clara, the person he had seen several times. Clara, the person he wanted to know. His first meeting and he felt like a bloody teenager with all these feelings rushing towards him. He didn't believe at love at first sight, but he damn well believed in her. Finally getting a closer look at this Clara, he realized that she was also in a similar predicament as he was. She looked like she was way out of her ball park, in her early thirties or late twenties. She was drinking water, indicating she was on edge. Most had a glass of Sherry or some equivalent. "She's a song writer. Writes for a couple of the big guys."

"Hello." He said, "I believe we've met before, briefly? At the other party a few weeks ago?" He hoped to jog her memory, perhaps out of pedantry or to give them a basis to talk about besides music. The cogs seemed to move in her head before she determined that she indeed had.

"Oh, right! Yes, I believe you were one of the opening acts, were you not? I can't forget that unruly mop of silver curls and that stage name of yours." So she had remembered. It wasn't his best act, but at least people clapped and cheered. That was how he really got invited to this one, even though acting wasn't his thing. Amy seemed to have grinned and walked away.

"Quite right, yes. You can just call me John. Everyone else was quite pretentious, so I didn't bother to give them my name." Clara chuckled at that. "I'm surprised you remembered."

"Of course. It was quite the show from someone I hadn't expected to be able to do such things." A cheeky punch at his age, of course. He didn't care if he was 55, he bloody well felt like he was in his thirties. But it wasn't out of disgust, it was out of jest so he wasn't as offended as he would have been. Plus, he didn't want to scare her away by making her feel as though his feelings were hurt.

"Don't judge a book by it's cover, Clara. I'm more than what you may see." He said, sipping whatever hell alcohol he chose to pick up. He wasn't sure if that was implied as anything but friendly, but if she felt it didn't, she said nothing. She didn't leave after the introduction like most of the people he spoke to. He was surprised, if anything, that she didn't already move on to the next strapping gentleman. But he knew not to ask if a good thing was happening. They kept on talking, for a long period of time. It felt like hours, but it really had only been thirty minutes.

"I haven't really had the pleasure of talking to anybody like me." She said, after a long talk about how she wrote songs, which was less than conventional. Apparently, she baked failed souffles while determining what to compose for whoever she had to write for. It was weird, but it was an amusing quirk he found...dare he think it, _cute_. He brushed the thought away as quick as it came. That was inappropriate and he knew it.

"Like you?" He inquired.

"Someone who doesn't know what they're doing." Oh, she's perceptive. He wondered what gave it away. He wasn't very good at making masks yet. "I came because Amy wanted me to get more people to write for and honestly, I'm not one for parties like this. It's too adult-like and posh for me. I don't know how to weave through people and converse about small talk. Especially when I am with strangers."

"I'm a friend." He offered lamely. Clara contemplated this and for the briefest of moments he had expected her to scoff or something of the sort, but she didn't. Instead, she laughed.

"You know what, yes, you are." He let out a breath he didn't know he had actually held until that point. Even her laugh was interesting and the way her face turned to jubilant amusement.

"Oh, there's Adrien. I have to go, John, but it was nice to talk to you." She gave him the briefest of winks before disappearing into the crowd. Adrien, he guessed, was her boyfriend or some equivalent. She was a couple of yards away now. So much for conversation. He put his glass on a table nearby and felt alone yet again. He wondered how many days will it take until he saw her again.

It only took about a few minutes as he was determining whether or not he should leave when she came back into his eye line.

"You're still here? Would you like to come out with me for a bit?" She gestured outside. He couldn't tell if she was flirting or just wanted to use him as an excuse to leave. He was always rubbish when it came to people. That's probably why he was alone like this.

"What about Adrien?"

"Adrien? Oh, his wife was calling him back home, so he had to go." He hoped his face didn't betray any pleasure in the fact that Adrien was not indeed her boyfriend or any form of lover. But he shouldn't, he really shouldn't. He was way older than her and it wouldn't be appropriate. It just wouldn't. "Let's go, yeah?"

His mouth opened, prepared to say a yes, when his phone rang in his pocket. He took it out and glanced, his eyes narrowing, "Oh. It's my manager, hold on."

"No worries." He answered the call as Clara went off for a moment to speak with a nearby stranger. She was so chatty, he wondered how she could even feel as though she was an awkward person in a crowd. She was just so vibrant, like a ray of sunlight in the darkness of this mingling of sweaty bodies in a small room of uncomfortable proportions.

"Hello? What is it now, Missy? I'm in the middle of something." The annoyance was clear in his voice. Missy chuckled at this. Oh, she had an ulterior motive.

"You don't want to even talk to me, so I'm assuming Clara has captured your attention faster than I thought." Missy, his dearly beloved manager came from the other end. She was one of the few people he kept close to him, despite her annoying timing, strange dress, and overall strange demeanor. But, he couldn't complain. She had gotten him this far and he was sure she would get him further, as a friend and as a manager.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He growled quietly into the phone as he looked at Clara seemingly agreeing with the woman she was speaking to.

"Pretend as though I am talking to you about something regarding business because I'm assuming I probably interrupted your conversation with her. Before you dare open your mouth, I will answer the questions that you will say out loud and it will not prove well for you if she is in earshot." Clara was in earshot. "Yes, I set Clara up with you. I asked Amy to bring her closer, she's a contact I have been conferring with for awhile. Clara is a damn good songwriter, John, more so than you will ever know unless you work with her." This was not how he was hoping that he was to get closer to Clara. He had hoped Amy genuinely wanted her to meet him. Now he felt as though Clara had been deceived by his manager. Missy sensed this and continued, "She knew you already from the last gig you did. A fan of the little bit of work you have, as Amy put it, but she doesn't show preference to stay in good terms with all the people she writes for. It'll be nice, John, you know it will be."

"Yes, but-"

"But nothing. It's a plus that Clara already knew you from your previous gig. Get to know her better. Get her to write a song for you, because John, honestly, you aren't making a lot of money and time is of the essence." Missy paused before continuing with tenderness, which was something completely new from someone like Missy, "As a friend and not as your boss, I am telling you to get her to do so." She was right of course. Living in London wasn't the best decision, cost-wise for someone who had tossed the idea of work a long time ago. If he didn't make money, that pool that he had saved from his smaller acts would be gone before he knew it. He growled, sighing, knowing she was right.

"Fine. I'll think about it." He concluded. An exasperated sigh came from the receiver.

"You're not going to think about it, John, you're going to bloody well do it." She hung up on him and Clara noticed this, striding back to him.

"Ready?" She asked him expectantly. He didn't feel so well about leaving with her anymore, but he couldn't say no.

"Alright."


	2. Chapter 2

I cannot, for the life of me, attempt to make conversation. It's been so long since I've ever touched this will happen eventually but I don't know when, I haven't thought this out enough, whoops. I'll try what I can... :)

* * *

The moment he stepped out of the room and into the deep dark, he felt the breeze pick up. It felt relieving to be in the open air and Clara seemed to also appreciate it as well. He looked out into the stars and then back at her, but her eyes were looking back at him. Her piercing gaze, the deep unsettling way her eyes seemed to speak volumes and nothing at the same time- this is what Missy wanted him to work with.

"Hm?"

"Well," She pauses, as though she didn't want to say what she really was thinking, "I was thinking about your music."

"How so?" He prodded gently. He prepared himself for any sort of jab at his music. His music was an acquired taste but modern enough to where people were able to vibe with it at this age.

"I listened to some of your tracks. You sing beautifully, but you started your career late. Why?" What a direct question. He wasn't sure what kind of answer he should offer. He came out on a whim. Left everything he did to do this. If he was going to die eventually, he might as well attempt to live life to the fullest. Being a rockstar was on the list, even for a brief moment. He was just lucky that Missy was at the gig he had chosen to do to get it off the bucket list or else he wouldn't have gotten any further.

"I didn't even want to truly be a rockstar. Yeah, I liked the greats, enjoyed their music and dabbled ever since I was young, but I knew it wasn't going to keep me afloat. It took me a long time to realize that the being mundane just wasn't for me and I just jumped to the first plane I could get to go to London, met my manager, and the rest is history. Was it a mistake? Maybe, but I wasn't going to die without trying. If I failed in my music career, I'd just go back to the mundane."

"That's what I had in mind too." Clara murmured and John looked at her in surprise.

"You didn't chose to be a songwriter?" She was so young to have made a turn decision like that. Usually most people who were bright would just go straight to college and hope for the best that they'll get their career in traction.

"On the contrary, I wanted to be a rockstar too, but the stage isn't for me. The label I'm under liked my voice, but I couldn't sign on." Clara clarified, "Always had stage fright at a young age, but I did have a knack for writing, so the label wanted me to stay. if this whole songwriter business didn't work out, I am qualified to be an English teacher, but that's a bit on the boring side too."

"I guess we're both adventurous, aren't we?" He said, earning him a giggle.

"Yes, I suppose so." An easy and welcome silence enveloped the two as they looked on ahead. John wasn't one to understand women, but he seemed to understand Clara fairly enough to the point where he felt comfortable. Even in Missy's care, he didn't feel comfortable at all. Mainly annoyed and frustrated, but that wasn't the point. They continued chatting about more idle topics until Clara's mobile this time, rang and interrupted the calm tranquility.

"Sorry. Oh, it's Amy." She took her phone from her purse and answered it. "Hello? Amy, I'm outside. Oh, alright. No. I'm with- Amy!" He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he waited patiently for Clara to finish her conversation. In the lamplight, he could see Clara's cheeks tint the slightest pink at what Amy seemed to be saying, "It's not- okay, fine. Okay." She hung up on Amy quite bitterly and looked back to John.

"I have to go, my ride is a bit impatient." She glared annoyingly at her phone before she placed it back in her purse, "Catch up with you another time?"

"I think this is the part where I have to ask for your number first, Clara. It would be impossible to even catch you without one." He murmured, quietly enough that he had wondered if she even heard it, but she did.

"There's such a thing as too keen, John. I did just meet you." Her comment caught him off guard, bringing John to stammer. He knew his cheeks were a tinge of pink, but in the lighting, it was difficult to tell.

"i-" She laughed at him. She pulled out a pen from her purse and wrote down her number on his palm. It tingled with each number she wrote.

"Contact me." Clara walked off, leaving John bubbling with a mixture of emotions. He felt like a schoolboy yet again, getting the number of the cutest girl in class. _Pull yourself together! You're not in secondary school. _Despite his thoughts, he still smiled at the number and knew that this was a new phase of his life- an addition to his rockstar beginning. Something more, if he dare say it.

* * *

Clara sighed heavily as she got to Amy's car without a word after her conversation with John. Judging by Amy's smirk, she was already assuming things. Things Clara didn't want to hear because it would just be a whole load of teasing.

"What?"

"So, how was he?" Amy said, starting the car and driving away from the party. "I'm sure you had some fun."

"It was fine Amy. He was a nice guy. That's pretty much it."

"You talked with him for at least an hour. That's longer than the attention you give anybody that is a male preying on you, hell it's longer than the attention you give anybody as a whole." Amy said, "I know I sprung it onto you a little too fast, but work with him. He's a wonderful guy, as Missy puts it. At least you tolerate him and it's going to help both of you, popularity for him and money for you." Clara was also short of change but she didn't really want to admit it. Being stronger than she looked, Clara just didn't like the idea of being strapped for money. She had been looking for a job in teaching but she knew she had a chance with the label. Her song with Chris Rea was marginally successful on the album, but all of that wouldn't be enough, regardless, unless she did something. "Did you ask him?"

"No, not yet. I gave him my number though."

"Thank god. You know how hard it is to invite someone like him sometimes? He's lucky he made some traction or he just wouldn't have been there in the first place."

"Amy, I'm not going to be blunt with him and say that I want to make a song or a few with him because I'm run down on money."

"Yes, yes, I get it, but Clara, he's your best bet. It's a mutually beneficial decision." When Amy was right, she was right. Clara knew she was talking via experience, as she herself was a beginner and had to claw her way up with mutually beneficial agreements. She thought about him, his shy demeanor towards her for the first bit of their conversation and how he felt easy to talk to, at least when she didn't have to force answers out of his throat. It was strange, as though he was a young man in an older body, with a twinkle in his eye when he talked about space in one point of their conversation. He got all philosophical with her during that conversation and didn't realize she was just smiling until he glanced at her face again.

Amy stopped in the front of Clara's flat and Clara responded with some forms of pleasantries before leaving the car and walking to her front door. Her phone dinged yet again and she found herself looking at a text from an unknown number.

_'It's John. Just wanted to make sure this worked.'_

She typed out her reply, _'You couldn't even wait until tomorrow to contact me or is technology too advanced?'_

She fished her keys as she watched another reply come in, '_I __might smudge the handwriting and end up calling someone else.'_

_'I'm sure your voice would be a surprise to the unsuspecting.'_

_'I think I've heard worse. I recall a time when I called the wrong number and someone said, "Hello, Beef" to me.'_

_'You'll have to tell me about it.'_

_'Over coffee?' _She just barely got in her flat as he typed such a thing.

_'Is this meant to be a date?' _He didn't respond as fast as she had anticipated.

She just managed to get in her pajamas when he responded. Took him a bit, perhaps she was being too forward now.

_'I don't know. Is that what having coffee with someone is called now?'_

_'Har, har, very funny. You're avoiding the question.' _Clara fell onto her bed, phone in hand, anticipating responses. She wondered if she terrified him. Judging by the fact he was alone, he probably didn't really associate himself with women. If his manager was the only woman he really knew, then there were issues there.

_'Whatever you want it to be.'_

_'Well, I'm not busy next week. We could at that time, but don't ask me about where yet because I can either be writing in a studio a few ways away from my flat or at some other location.'_

_'You are very adventurous. I'll keep that in mind.' _She bit her lip, unsure of what to say next, but John beat her to it. _'I shall see you next week then.'_

_'Of course. Good night, John.'_

_'Good night, Clara.'_


End file.
